


Not your illness

by naturesloopholed



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturesloopholed/pseuds/naturesloopholed
Summary: Trigger Warnings: Mental Hospital, bipolar depression, suicidal thoughts.“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞.”Brief one-shot/drabble on mental health, hospitals, bipolar depression, etc.
Kudos: 4





	Not your illness

**Author's Note:**

> The story isn’t in-depth BUT I wanted to show that hospitals are there for HELPING people. Going to one of these places for help is not something to be ashamed of and I wish I had known that at sixteen instead of learning at twenty-one.

Bipolar Depression. Manic Depression, Does it matter what it is called? The blonde siphon had spent a total of almost a year thinking she was going “crazy” but her mind was really just fucking her over. At fourteen, closer to fifteen years old she shouldn’t be crying on the bathroom floor begging her own head to just shut off, to stop and let her go to sleep but she can’t sleep and going to bed at four in the morning to get up at six is nothing. People without mental illness claim it is a choice to just get better like she can will a manic episode away by just sleeping, eating more, stop moving so much, you are talking too much so shut up. But nothing about it is simple. No one noticed she was falling into a pit of unnerving energy until she is on her floor slicing upon soft skin to ease her mind. She has been fighting her own head for years. Take this pill and you will feel better, a load of shit if you ask her because nothing changes and when she cries to her sister she gets some comfort but Josie doesn’t help, take your medication like you should and things will get better. It is begging silently for help until she takes it upon herself and decides that she can’t keep fighting this forever. Her mother heals her up with vampire blood that night, holds her until the morning light on a cold bloody floor until her father is awake and the adults talk.

A new therapist there watching the blonde, shake around like she had too much coffee but hadn’t had a sip. Lizzie eats part of her eggs, pushing the rest to the side of her plate and gives the therapist a soft smile even though all she wants is to beg someone to kill her, end this misery. The high always feels great until you crash and the siphon is far from crashing. Alaric coming into the room with tear-filled eyes and everyone watches as Lizzie puts her hair tie into a bag gets dressed in something they might let her keep on Ride to the physiatrist’s office is short, filled with empty promises and hopes of a better future for her because begging to die isn’t enough clue that she is tired of fighting. The ER is lonely, her parents not allowed back when she gives a urine sample, is searched for anything sharp and forced to change into a gown and grippy socks. Fourteen, a few days from fifteen and she is getting admitted into a hospital. A pill swallowed down with cold water that takes thirty minutes to knock her out in one of those beds waiting for transport to a place full of people that can help her better. Almost dinner when she arrives and is searched, rechanged into new clothes and settled into a room with a window, not that there is much of a view. Lizzie hates this hospital already like they were animals to be cadged in. BE HUMAN. How fucking sad is it that her dad reminds her to be human as if it matters in a place where there is no magic. Nothing to do but sleep off the pill until a voice on a speaker announces it is dinner. No one is pushing or shoving, there are no wolves fighting for the last dinner roll or Josie talking about homework just a bunch of humans sitting there watching the news eating dinner. 

Picking at her piece of pizza that tastes of cardboard, Lizzie watches as the girl in front of her starts to cry, no one dares to ask what you are there for but something in her gut that the redhead with blue eyes is there because of an eating disorder. The way she eats slowly and almost has to fight with her own head to take that next bite and Lizzie almost wants to turn away completely and pretend she doesn’t notice, that it was all too much to be sitting there with someone that is hurting but there is an offer of a small smile on her own lips. “I’m Elizabeth.” The siphon tells the girl and for a few minutes, Lizzie swears no one, not even the redhead herself is going to say her name. “Macy,” the redhead answers, cold hands touch each other in a quick handshake. Aside from other young adults watching the news, there isn’t much sound, dinner uneventful at best but Lizzie is confident that she will be making one friend while in there.

After the dinner mess is cleaned up, some stay and watch a cheesy old-timey movie but Lizzie decides better than to do that. A nurse comes in and helps her circle her meal plan for the next day, everything about it is controlled and she has to think about what she wants instead of impulsively grabbing a smoothie from the smoothie station that Hope’s dad had installed, or at least his money paid for it. how Josie and she both got so excited when it first came into the boarding school. Snacktime two hours later is when Lizzie gets herself a pudding cup and settles to watch a movie with everyone for something to do. The TV in a glass case mounted to the wall and Lizzie watches with a coloring book filled with half colored pictures sits in front of her. Finish coloring a dog that someone had started to make blue with giving him a deep purple head.

After a movie and finishing a picture, Lizzie tucks herself in for the night. At six in the morning, she is woken to get her blood pressure checked and poked with a needle. A soft plump older lady with grey hair giving her attention and care with her needle sticks. Falling back asleep in a place that wasn’t home, no twin sister snoring in the next bed over or her mother waking them to have pancakes. 

It’s lonely there filled with a room full of people but in stolen moments Lizzie doesn’t feel so “crazy” or “insane” as the world around her made her feel. The doctor gives her new medication, tells her she is safe and they talk about what Bipolar disorder means to her along with being in the hospital. Promises to talk every day that she is in there. Four days to get on the straight and narrow and home to her parents. 

Everything is different now, her parents forced to watch her take a pill twice a day, Josie walks around on eggshells more now but for once she feels like her old self, something she didn’t know she was missing.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is one of those short ones because I can't tell if people are interested in this sort of thing, where I paint getting help as what it is. Honestly, your thoughts and feedback on this are welcomed. You can always send one-shot/drabble requests over to geminiloopholed, naturesloopholed, or even ofcamerasflashing on tumblr!


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